Once Upon a Proposal

by ALLISON LEIGH,

  When she was finished, Cornelia rose again from the break fast table and moved across the kitchen to look out the window above the sink.

  Even at this early hour, her pale-blond hair was pulled back in its usual chignon and she was dressed impeccably in a soft salmon-colored sweater set that perfectly matched her narrow slacks. “Tell me the truth, Bobbie. Were you already engaged to this man when Harry told me you were before?”

  “No!” Bobbie pushed off her chair and went to stand next to her mother. She could see faint reflections of themselves in the window pane. Cornelia, tall and slender and fair and more beautiful than most women half her age. And Bobbie. Short and rounder in places than she liked, with her dark hair currently confined in ridiculous, wired braids. “If I’d intended to lie to you about any of this, I wouldn’t be here now.”

  Her mother sighed a little and slid her arm around the shoulders of Bobbie’s red-and-yellow patchwork dress. “Are you in love with this man?”

  “No!”

  Cornelia lifted a brow. “Are you certain?”

  Bobbie swallowed. “Yes. No. I don’t know. I only met him a few weeks ago.”

  “And look where you are,” her mother countered quietly. “You jumped into an engagement with Lawrence after only a month,” she reminded. “I don’t want to see you hurt again.”

  “I’ll be fine. And someone has to help him, Mom. You’d be appalled at his ex-wife’s attitude.”

  “Stephanie Walker. I’ve met her and her husband, actually, at a HuntCom function last year.”

  “I told Gabe this was a small city,” she muttered.

  Cornelia patted her shoulder. “She was perfectly lovely, actually, though maybe a tad uptight about her husband’s career. I find it hard to believe that she wouldn’t see reason when it comes to the custody of her children.”

  “She called me the help the first time we met.”

  “Mmm. Unfortunate, of course. And I’m well aware how communications between former spouses can deteriorate beyond all measure. I’m sure you were just too close to the blast range.”

  Bobbie wasn’t sure of any such thing, but she wasn’t going to argue the point with her mother. For one thing, she hadn’t been shocked right out of her gourd and insisted Bobbie get herself immediately uninvolved—which had been her first reaction when Bobbie had told her she’d planned to marry Lawrence.

  “Colin—that’s Gabe’s father—said he knew you, too.”

  “Colin Gannon. Of course.” Cornelia nodded. She smiled faintly. “Handsome devil. His wife is an interesting woman, as I remember. She didn’t strike me as particularly maternal.”

  “That’s one way of putting it. So you’re not, um, going to disown me or anything?”

  Cornelia tsked. “Where do you get these silly ideas?” She pressed a kiss to Bobbie’s forehead. “I love you, darling. I just want to see you happy.”

  If it weren’t for knowing that her involvement with Gabe was one of necessity rather than emotion, she would have been able to say that she was perfectly happy.

  So she just smiled and hoped her mother would take that as answer enough.

  Knowing that the morning traffic would be thickening, Bobbie left soon after, and the rest of the day flew by quickly. The shop was busy, and when she wasn’t making coffees, she was fielding calls from Cheryl at the agency.

  By the time Bobbie got off shift at four, she was feeling exhausted. But the sky was clear for once, so she walked the few doors down to a local floral shop and bought a pot of yellow daisies. They were cheerful-looking enough to give her a fresh shot of energy that carried her back to her car and across town to see Fiona.

  Gabe had left a message on her cell phone while she’d been working that he had to run out to Ballard to finish the consultation he hadn’t made it to at all the previous day. He’d also visited the bank for his grandmother and the paperwork was still with Fiona. He’d ended the no-nonsense call with “See you later, Pippi.”

  There was nothing romantic about the message.

  No undercurrents in his voice that told her anything other than what his words conveyed.

  She’d still listened to it five times in the office at Between the Bean during her lunch break. Doreen, dressed all in pink organza as Glinda the Good Witch, had finally stuck her head around the office door. She’d jabbed her wand—a silver-painted dowel with a foil-wrapped star stuck on the end of it—toward Bobbie. “Just call the man back already if you want to hear his voice so darn bad.”

  Bobbie had flushed and turned off the phone before finishing her peanut butter sandwich. She hadn’t called Gabe, knowing he would be busy enough without having to answer a call from her. What would have been the point of her interrupting him, other than to tell him she couldn’t get him out of her head?

  But she hadn’t erased the message.

  And as she drove to the hospital, she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d run into him there. She also couldn’t help but worry how she would keep up the pretense of their relationship in front of Fiona. The last thing Bobbie wanted to do was cause the woman any sort of stress. If she actually believed that romance had bloomed so quickly between Bobbie and her grandson, telling her that it was all for show was bound to be troubling.

  As it happened, though, Bobbie needn’t have worried about that.

  Gabe wasn’t in Fiona’s room.

  His ex-wife and his children, however, were, and while both Todd and Lisette—dressed in the costumes that they’d come up with at Bobbie’s the evening before—seemed genuinely pleased to see Bobbie, their mother most definitely wasn’t.

  She gave Bobbie a glacial look, but moved aside so that Bobbie could place the large, cheery plant on the windowsill, which was a little crowded, thanks to a big crystal vase overflowing with an amazing orchid bouquet. Bobbie then went to Fiona’s side to kiss her cheek. Her dear friend was sitting up right in the bed. “You’re getting quite a garden in here,” she told her.

  Fiona smiled and patted her cheek. “The daisies are lovely, dear. So bright and cheerful. Thank you.”

  “We brought the orchids,” Lisette piped in. She’d completed her swan costume with a white tutu from home and looked quite the young ballerina as she struck poses around the confining room, despite her mother’s quiet words to be still.

  Bobbie glanced at the impressive floral display sitting next to her very ordinary daisy plant. She glanced at Gabe’s ex-wife and tried to remember that her own mother had claimed the woman was perfectly nice. “They’re beautiful.”

  Stephanie smiled back, but the effort could have frozen water. She brushed a languid hand down her perfectly cut, deep-red sheath dress. “The children insisted on visiting their grandmother before getting out of their costumes.”

  “And I appreciate you bringing them,” Fiona put in, giving Todd a wink.

  Stephanie looked marginally warmer. “Yes. Well, now they need to be getting home. Ethan will be home this evening and I’m planning a special dinner.”

  Todd grimaced. “I’d rather be trick-or-treating.”

  “You’re too old for those things,” Stephanie told him. “And it’s hardly a safe activity, anyway.”

  Bobbie sank her teeth into her tongue to keep from protesting that. Todd was only ten. Lisette, twelve. And if they had adult supervision while visiting a few of the neighborhood houses, what was the harm?

  Todd’s shoulders drooped a little.

  Even though Bobbie had worried that she would upset the former Mrs. Gannon by helping the children find costumes more to their liking than the plastic ghost-sheet and cowboy vest that their mother had purchased, she was glad now that she had.

  At least the kids had been able to enjoy their costumes at school.

  She returned their hugs when they offered them, and tried to ignore the frost that returned ten-fold to their mother’s expression as she did so. Bobbie was almost giddy with relief when the other woman departed without adding any words to the animosity in her eyes.


  When they were alone, Bobbie pulled a bag out of her oversized purse and handed it to Fiona before scooting one of the side chairs closer to the bed.

  “What is this?”

  “A few toiletries.”

  Fiona peered inside, pulling out the comb and the new tube of toothpaste and toothbrush. “Bless you.” She took the comb and dragged it through her short hair.

  Bobbie smiled, glad that she’d thought to pick up the few simple items. “There’s lotion in there, too, and a few magazines. So, how are you feeling today?”

  Fiona grimaced at the wires still coming out from beneath her hospital gown, leading to the machines beside the bed. “Like I’m ready to get out of here.” She pointed with the comb toward a manila folder sitting on the rolling tray that hovered over the foot of the bed. “Hand me that, will you? It’s all of the banking information that Gabriel brought me this morning.”

  Bobbie handed her the folder, then sat back in the chair again. “Cheryl’s called me a half-dozen times today. Everything’s going fine at the agency. The graduation for Saturday morning is on course. There’s a new crop of pups being turned over from their puppy raisers to the trainers the following Saturday.” That particular event was always held in conjunction with a festive picnic. It was one way of honoring and thanking the raisers for being an important part of the process. “I told her to confirm the times and dates with the caterer for the picnic, and to stop worrying so much.”

  Fiona smiled faintly. She set aside her comb, flipped open the folder and pulled out a sheet of paper that she handed to Bobbie. “Sign by the red X there at the bottom.”

  Bobbie automatically took the sheet. “For what?”

  “To be a signer on the agency’s bank accounts.”

  Bobbie went still. Alarm inflated inside her belly. “Fiona—”

  Fiona held up her hand. “Don’t bother arguing with me.”

  “But your son should—”

  “—nothing. Colin would sooner close the agency’s doors than get involved there.”

  “Or Gabe—”

  “He has enough on his plate.” Fiona waved her hand toward the paper. “You’re the one I want. So sign.”

  “But Fiona, I don’t even work for you. Not that way.”

  “And I think it’s about time we changed that, don’t you?”

  “And just what would you hire me as? The official check signer? You have no open staff positions. You haven’t for two solid years. And why would you? Everyone who comes to work for you at Golden never wants to work for anyone or anywhere else.”

  “There is a position open. Director.”

  Bobbie could only stare.

  “It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while,” Fiona continued. She flicked a finger against the monitor wires keeping her tethered. “I’m told this was just a warning that I’m supposed to slow down. And frankly, I’d rather do it while I have some control over what happens to my life’s work than wait till I’m six feet under and my family gets to sweep everything I’ve worked for under the rug.”

  Bobbie leaned forward and closed her hand over Fiona’s. “They wouldn’t do that.”

  Without her customary cosmetics, the eyebrows that Fiona raised were pale and faint. “I’m quite certain that they would.”

  Knowing what she did now about the way Fiona’s husband had died, Bobbie couldn’t even offer an argument. “They love you, Fiona. If nothing else was apparent at your birthday party, that most certainly was.”

  Fiona made a face. “Gannons aren’t like the Fairchilds, dear. Love in this family doesn’t necessarily mean unquestionable support. I knew it when I married Sean and his mother wore black to our wedding.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Indeed. Black might be a fashion choice these days, but back then, it simply wasn’t done. It was quite the scandal. She didn’t appreciate at all the fact that Sean and I married only a month after we’d met—and she’d had another match already picked out for him. Then I gave Mrs. Gannon—that was my mother-in-law, of course—only one grandchild. Another faux pas, though it was no different than what she had done in her marriage. The only blessing was that she didn’t live long enough to see her son die before his time. She would have blamed me for that, too.”

  “Fiona.”

  “Don’t fret, Bobbie. Gabe told me this morning he let you in on the big family secret.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Sean and I had a good life together. It was just too short, and even though I knew he loved me, I also understood the pressure he felt to live up to his family’s expectations. When his eyesight was going, he tried to hide it from them all and there was nothing I could do to ease his fears.” She shook her head, her faraway expression focusing in again on Bobbie’s face. “I like to think Sean’s passing wasn’t for nothing. It gave me the drive to begin Golden Ability. And now who better to take on the reins than you? You remind me so much of myself when I was young, Bobbie.”

  “I find that hard to believe. You’re always so…focused.”

  “I found my focus,” Fiona countered gently. “Because of circumstances. But you’ve always been focused when it comes to the agency.”

  “Sure. Raising puppies!”

  “And ensuring that we have other wonderful puppy raisers, too. And filling in whenever and wherever I needed you. My dear, don’t you realize that no matter what else you were doing in your life, you’ve always stayed committed to your part at Golden Ability? You know the staff. You know what we do and why. Cheryl has worked for me for nearly seven years. She still calls you when I’m unavailable and she has a question about something. I have no doubts that you can do this. And I’m still going to be around to show you the ropes until you’re as confident about your own abilities as I am.”

  A litany of arguments against every point that Fiona was making raced through Bobbie’s mind, but she didn’t even manage to voice one when Fiona continued.

  “And now you’re going to marry my grandson.” Fiona crossed her arms, looking as satisfied as a cat who’d caught the canary.

  Bobbie barely managed not to wince. The litany in her head simply laid down and died. “That’s what this is really about. Because I-I’m suddenly engaged to marry Gabe?”

  Fiona’s head cocked slightly. Her eyes—Bobbie had never noticed before just how similar they were to Gabe’s—narrowed slightly. “Actually, one thing has little to do with the other.”

  Bobbie narrowed her own eyes, trying to read Fiona’s. “Are you certain?”

  “Have I ever lied to you?”

  “No,” Bobbie allowed slowly. But there was still a craftiness in Fiona’s expression that worried her.

  “So sign. At least do that so I don’t have to worry about the a/p for a while.” She rolled her gaze over to the machines keeping her company. “And so I know if something else does happen, the agency can at least function for a while before Colin gets his hooks in.”

  “Nothing else is going to happen to you. And I don’t want to hear another word from you that it might.” She slid the pen off the front of the folder where it was hooked and scratched her signature on the paper. “This does not mean anything, Fiona, except that I won’t have to forge your name on a few checks. All right?”

  Fiona’s smile turned angelic. “For now.” She pushed a button and the head of her bed lowered a little until she wasn’t sitting quite so upright. “Now, tell me how Gabriel proposed. And have you set a date?”

  Bobbie nearly choked. They hadn’t thought to come up with details like this to support their story. And how could she lie right to Fiona’s face? “We, um, we haven’t set a date yet.”

  “I know how everyone loves a June bride, but winter weddings are wonderful, too. And I mean this winter,” Fiona added. “Not another twelve-plus months down the road.”

  “What’s another twelve-plus months down the road?”

  Bobbie looked past Fiona’s bed to see Gabe standing in the doorway. Despite the wh
olly unrestful night she’d had thanks to her dreams about him, relief had her shooting shakily to her feet, and the document she’d just signed slid onto the floor. “Nothing,” she said hurriedly before going down onto her knees to fish it out from beneath the metal workings of Fiona’s bed.

  “Your wedding date,” she heard Fiona tell Gabe and when she straightened again, it was to find him standing beside her at the bed, a faint smile on his face as he looked at her.

  “Quite an outfit, Pippi,” he drawled. His gaze traveled down her torso.

  She remembered what she looked like and felt a flush that was surely as bright as the patches sewn roughly onto her T-shirt. She hurriedly dragged the hem back down from where it had ridden dangerously high up her thighs and tucked the paper safely inside the manila folder again. “It’s the braids,” she said over-brightly. “They make the costume.”

  His gaze drifted over her thighs once more. “Right.” Then he caught her chin with his knuckle and dropped a kiss onto her lips. “The freckles, too.”

  Bobbie had to forcibly remind herself that the kiss probably was for Fiona’s benefit. “I, um, I didn’t want to take time to go home and change before I came to see Fiona.”

  “She brought me the daisies,” Fiona inserted.

  Gabe glanced at the plant. “Nice.” He picked up the folder. “This ready to go back to the bank?”

  Fiona nodded and Bobbie skewered Gabe with a look. “I suppose she told you what she wanted.”

  “Yup.” He tapped the folder’s edge against the rolling table. “And it makes perfect sense to me.”

  “I also told her I want her to replace me as director at the agency,” Fiona added, “but she’s being stubborn. Soften her up for me. I’m sure your persuasive methods are far more enjoyable than my playing on her sympathy.”

  Bobbie’s face felt even hotter. “I’m standing right here, Fiona,” she muttered.

  Fiona just laughed. “Go on, now. Newly engaged couples shouldn’t waste time in boring hospital rooms when there’s a date to be set and a wedding to be planned.”

  “There’s nothing boring about your hospital room,” Bobbie assured feelingly. But she figured exiting as quickly as possible was probably a good idea under the circumstances. She leaned over to give Fiona a careful hug that wouldn’t have her T-shirt riding up too high and then followed Gabe out into the hall.